


Pacific Omens

by Crowoxy



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Gen, Humor, Monsters, Pacific Rim AU, Robots, The Them - Freeform, gratuitous crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowoxy/pseuds/Crowoxy
Summary: Good Omens and Pacific Rim clash when strange beings called Kaiju show up on Earth directed by the Precursors, one of God’s original creations that They discarded, or attempted to at any rate. Now, humanity has built giant robots called Jaegers to fight these monsters, a fight which Heaven and Hell has decided to join, along with the Antichrist and his posse. Things can’t get much worse. (Yes they can).A Good Omens with giant fighting robots and a very much depleted population. By the end of this, I will not be surprised if I managed to ruin both fandoms, three if I’m counting religion as a fandom.Written for the Good Omens Holiday Exchange for LadyLier on Dreamwidth!! Thank you so much for this fantastic prompt!





	1. In Which The World is Doomed

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for LadyLier who seriously has the best prompts that will eventually start having me tear my hair out in frustration and also glee.

Back when God first created the world, his angels saw Them Create life that looked like strange multi-legged, multi-eyed sticks with priests’ headdresses, although none of the angels knew what those were at the time. Then God moved out of Their Monster phase (as They’d referred it) and had the firstborn angels, Michael and Lucifer, trash the entire project along with their world and decided to create Earth. No one was surprised that Michael and Lucifer ended up fighting each other more than completing their task of destroying the Precursor’s world. When the survivors somehow managed to find a way to connect their world with Earth and threatened the latest Creation, dinosaurs[1], God rolled Their eyes, pulled out another bottle of wine from Their pocket[2], told Gabriel to deal with the problem, and thought nothing more of it.

Gabriel solved the problem by throwing a meteor onto Earth, which got rid of the Precursors… and everything else on Earth. It was a good thing that God’s favorite Creation, Adam and Eve, were placed in the Garden of Eden at the time or God may have actually cried in despair. As it were, the Precursors were gone, banished back to their world which was then known as the Anteverse, the humans were tempted literally three days later and went down to Earth with a secret new flaming sword, but no umbrella to protect them from the inevitable rainstorm heading their way, and humanity started to flourish.

All was good. Temporarily, at any rate, and for only some beings.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**_ Characters _ **

 

Heaven

Aziraphale: angel, Kaiju Researcher, and all time bookseller and tea fanatic - Drift compatible with Crowley

Michael: archangel of Heaven, wants to be the hero pilot but has no idea what’s going on - Drift compatible with no one except Lucifer for ten seconds

Gabriel: archangel of Heaven who gives zero fucks. In it for the thrill and to laugh at everyone else - Drift compatible with no one and proud of it

Raphael: archangel of Heaven and surprise medical officer of the Shatterdome - Drift compatible with everyone, but is terrified of the Jaegers

Metatron: Voice of God and Announcer of the Shatterdome - Drift Compatible with Himself and no one else

 

Hell

Crowley: Flash demon, Kaiju Researcher, botanist, and Determined to Be Cool - Drift compatible with Aziraphale

Lucifer: Prince of Darkness, Satan, Holder of many names, the Adversary, pissed off that the kaiju are doing his work for him - Drift Compatible with Michael for ten seconds before he tries to murder him

Beezelbub: Duke of Hell who hangs around Famine and cooks all the food. Doesn’t mind the occasional fly that pops in the gravy. Drift Compatible with a swarm of bees which makes no sense

 

Humans (who actually get things done) 

Adam: Still the antichrist, but older and cooler and less impulsive (not really). Pilot of the Jaeger THEM

Pepper: Human who also does weapon manufacturing and Takes No Shit from No One. Pilot of the Jaeger THEM

Brian: Human who works as the Assault specialist and Always Has Grand Ideas. Pilot of the Jaeger THEM

Wensleydale: Human who is the Conn-Pod-Control (CPC) officer and the most organized of the lot. Pilot of the Jaeger THEM

Marshall: The Marshall. No one knows his real name or how he got the position. He just showed up and started running things

Kraken: Honorable Mention

 

Anteverse 

 

Precursor: God’s early creations that he scrapped due to a lack of interest. For thousands of years, they’ve thought of nothing but revenge on the humans that God abandoned them for. Strangely good at engineering although where they picked up the skills is a mystery even to themselves.

Kaiju: Giant bioengineered monsters created by the Precursors in an attempt to mimic their hated Creator and to destroy their enemies and conquer their world.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was the year 2013 and nothing was good. Although considering the world was supposed to have ended less than a year ago, perhaps Earth was only continuing to turn on borrowed time. Armageddon was prophesied to happen with fire, but giant lizards that could destroy cities with barely any effort was also a good way to go. Or a bad way to go, depending on how one looked at it and what one’s political views were. For Anthony J. Crowley, a demon of the High Lord Satan of Hell and etc, he was of the opinion that everything sucked and the world was a terrible place to be.

“How did ‘influence the humans to get a weapon strong enough to fight the Precursor army coming to kill them’ turn into -”

“Turn into let’s create giant metal robots with weapons to fight them for us?” Two men like beings sat across from each other at a table in a park. Both were dark skinned, although one had jet-black hair that was artfully mussed to make it seem cool and the other had curly blondish-red hair.

“I’ve told you for centuries that humans are inventive, right? Barely said “hey chaps, let’s do something about these giant monsters coming out of the ocean that destroyed Ghirardelli Square[3]” and they were all “Robots, brilliant!”” The black-haired one sighed. “Could have gone for a cannon or a plague or something easy, but no, they wanted giant machines.”

“It’s from all that telly nonsense, you know,” his companion complained, “all those pixels fighting each other for entertainment and such.” The companion’s name was Aziraphale and he - for all intents and purposes appeared male, just like a disportionate amount of people in this story - was an angel of the Lord on High, His Holiness, Absentee Creator, etc, who had been living on Earth watching the humans for over six thousand years. In that time of growing technology and the rise of the digital age, Aziraphale had made sure to be at the very least fifty years behind the latest trend, because no self-respecting angel would be Hip With the Times; it sounded positively demonic[4].

“Oh please,” Crowley scoffed, “humans have been massively creative about destruction even before the telly was invented. And anyways,” Crowley continued after throwing an entire loaf of bread at a wandering duck, “none of this would have been a problem if Michael had just done his job and smited all of them back to the Anteworld.”

“Er, well. Michael does tend to be a bit overdramatic and you know he has that attention span problem…” It was almost too embarrassing to think about. Michael, General of the Heavenly Host, had come down to Earth right after San Francisco had been destroyed to defeat the Kaiju. He’d been doing well too, until he’d seen some chocolate in the remains of the city and then was distracted enough to be used as a volleyball by the Kaiju and spiked straight through the city of Portland where he was then distracted by Voodoo Donuts[5]. He was still recovering from his wounds and Raphael - the ever suffering healer- was of course ever suffering trying to heal him. Of course, that was just the word on the grapevine. Aziraphale tended to avoid Heaven to an almost unhealthy degree, same as his demon counterpart avoided Hell.

“And about Lucifer? He could have helped.” Aziraphale pointed out, rescuing the duck from trying to eat an entire loaf of bread on its own.

“This is Lucifer,” Crowley shrugged, “he took one look at Michael being thrown and collapsed into laughter. Nearly caused another tsunami with how hard he landed in the ocean. Beezlebub had to carry him back to hell.”

“I don’t know if that’s more embarrassing than being tossed between giant monsters or not.”

“I’m practicing this great technique of not asking so no one talks to me and then discorprates me. It’s been working really well.” Needless to say, if one has read the previous installment of the Most Interesting Week in the Life of an Angel and Demon, they would know that Crowley is on Hell’s Absolute Shit List, which is a list of those poor sods who piss off Lucifer and somehow lived to tell the tale. The only other named being on that list, apart from the generic “all angelic beings and all humanoid beings”, is Michael. Crowley feels a small sense of pride whenever he sees a copy of that list. The pride is usually then drowned by terror.

“Then how did you know about Lucifer falling into ocean laughing?” Aziraphale asked.

“Oi, just because I can’t go to hell without running for my life doesn’t mean that other demons don’t talk to me.” With a glare, the duck that had just learned its lesson of not chewing more than it could swallow, found itself trying to eat an even bigger piece of bread. Aziraphale promptly saved the bird by shooing the rest of the ducks to swarm it. “Dagon still likes to call, and after the usual threats of death and suffering, he’ll tell me the latest gossip.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale looked to be in deep thought, but was instead watching the duck out of the corner of his eye. “Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

“It really doesn’t, but that’s normal.” Crowley stood, cracking his neck and spine in one fluid motion to see the angel squirm. “Come on, I’m bored.”

They walked a good length of the park before Crowley started talking again.

“You know what’s not normal, why doesn’t Gabriel just meteor the planet like he did the last time the Precursors came to earth?”

“Er, I suppose it’s because Father is still rather miffed about the last meteor incident and has still banned all usage.”

“Seriously? It’s been _ages_. They’re still on about that?”

“They’re still _drinking_ from that incident.”

“Oh my Someone, and people call Lucifer is dramatic.”

 

 

[1] Which God insisted weren’t monster-like in the slightest, They had _moved_ on from Their monster-phase kids, get with the picture.

[2] Technically neither wine nor bottles had been invented yet, but as everyone knows, God transcends time because it is a social construct, much like gender and platypuses.

[3] As most people know, Ghirardelli Square is a popular tourist destination in the once city of San Francisco in the United States. During the Kaiju attack, it was definitely targeted with utmost prejudice because everyone knows chocolate is the best invention of all time and the Precursors were jealous they never got any.

[4] Technically, it was demonic. Crowley invented the phrase to try and have Aziraphale remember that Hip-Hop was not called Bebop, but as many things Crowley tried to help, it was ineffective.

[5] Chocolate flavor of course. Chocolate is both the best invention and the greatest weakness of every angelic creature. Even God has no defense.


	2. Don't Fix What's Not Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Adam and Co arrive at the Shatterdome and get a nice tour by The Marshall and run into new friends and old friends and Aziraphale gets to yell at people.

It’s been seven years since Heaven and Hell attempted the apocalypse with the antichrist and five years since the start of the apocalypse Heaven and Hell didn’t sanction. Adam Young, resident antichrist and all around swell 18 year old boy, was excited. He was finally old enough to be piloting one of the Jaegers, robot titans made to fight the kaiju that were still laying waste to earth.

With the powers granted to him by his father Satan, the Lord of Hell, also known as Lucifer, the Morningstar, etc[1], Adam could have gone sooner and made the Jaeger program accept him and his friends, but his father wanted him to finish secondary school before pursuing a military career. It was only proper.

There were many times when Adam feared the Jaeger program would shut down before he’d gotten a chance to pilot, but humanity has always been drawn to making the same mistakes until something miraculously works. The Jaeger program was no exception.

Over the years, the Jaegers had managed to fight off some of the kaiju attacking the human cities, usually at the cost of the human city they were protecting. But the administrative management in Kansas, United States didn’t see this as a problem seeing how they had yet to be impacted by these ocean sea creatures and continued to fund the program.

But Adam was not aware of any of the little business hacks and was simply thrilled about being able to move a giant robot.

“Aw, man! This is going to be brilliant!” Adam’s friend Brian was as excited to pilot as Adam was himself. “It’s going to be like the Gundum mechas or like the Evangelion mechas, or like Voltron! We’ve got to be able to form Voltron.”

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Wensleydale, Adam’s other friend, had his reservations about fighting giant monsters with giant teeth and giant claws but was too loyal to Adam[2] to say no.

“Of course we should! We’re going to be kicking some kaiju arse!” Pepper, Adam’s other other friend in his group of four, had worried many adults with her love of fighting and destroying things. But Adam wasn’t worried and that’s all that mattered in their group of friends.

The four of Them - the name had stuck - had arrived in Hong Kong by plane only a few hours ago and were now waiting to be let inside the Shatterdome to become pilots. All other Shatterdomes had been closed down except for this one, which Adam was glad for; he’d always wanted to see China[3].

“We’re probably not going to be able to pilot right away, Pepper.” Wensleydale pushed his glasses up his nose, a sign that he was trying to be logical in his group of highly illogical friends. “We’ve only just arrived and we’re not even trained.”

“Pish posh!” Pepper declared. It was her new favorite phase for the sole reason that it irritated her mother.

“Pish posh is right!” A new voice boomed from the doors as they opened. A tall figure stepped from the hallway, shadows dancing across their face so it couldn’t be properly viewed. “You four look ready to hop in a Jaeger right now and blast some of those nasty beats away.”

“Course we are.” Pepper squinted at the person. “What’s with that face of yours?”

“Who are you?” Adam asked politely, because one should be polite to random strangers who don’t show their faces.

“I’m the Marshall.” Said the Marshall, ignoring Pepper entirely. “I run things around here, so if you lot want to pilot a Jaeger, I say you pilot a Jaeger.” The Marshall turned around and beckoned with his finger for the Them to follow him.

“Is anyone else a bit concerned that The Marshall isn’t actually a name?” Wensleydale muttered to no one as they followed him inside the Shatterdome.

“Nope!” Brian said brightly, flicking a hand back to pat his fellow Adam’s friend on the back.

Inside the Shatterdome was complete chaos. People ran back and forth with papers, boxes, devices, and with one small lady, a giant greatsword that had Pepper salivating to use. It took the combined strength of the rest of the Them to keep Pepper from tackling the woman and stealing the sword.

The Marshall led the Them around the base, showing them the dining hall, the mess hall[4], the training hall, the bath hall, the bar hall (which the Them were forbidden from entering because Adam’s father would be very cross indeed to find Adam drinking while on the job. The Them took this in stride, because Mr. Young would be very cross indeed. Only Wensleydale was slightly worried at how this mysterious Marshall knew Adam’s dad, but that worry was quickly forgotten.)

When the Marshall showed the Them the room they would be sharing, the tour was interrupted by a shout from someone across the hall, who was waving his arms excitedly. Brian and Pepper both mutually decided that this man was more like a flapping chicken than a human.

“Hey! Hey! If it isn’t Adam and Co! Man, your dad is going to be so excited that you’re here.” Before the Them could react, he was in front of them, poking their heads with his finger.

“My dad _is_ aware I’m here,” Adam pointed out, “he’s the one who bought the plane ticket.”

“Not that dad, silly. Your actual dad. Maybe. I don’t actually know the mechanics of how he did it. Wait, I don’t _want_ to know the mechanics of how he did it. Raphael would know, you should ask Raphael.”

“Oh, you mean Adam’s Dramatic Sperm Donor.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “If he never bothered to send presents, then he’s no dad of Adam’s.”

“I think he’s the one who sent the hellhound.”

“Well, there wasn’t a name tag on it, so who knows if you’re even telling the truth.” Brian jutted in. Adam smiled at his friends in appreciation.

“Michael,” The Marshall sighed, “please stop being a nuisance and find something to do.”

Michael pouted, something that didn’t really match his giant stature. “But Luci keeps chucking things at my head.”

“Then learn to dodge better,” The Marshall said patiently and turned to the Them as Michael skipped away. “Right, just one more place to show you and then you’re free to explore the authorized areas. Tomorrow morning, I’ll put you in one of the Jaegers.”

They all cheered. Even Wensleydale, although his was more of a half-hearted harrumph.

The Marshall took the Them to a door labeled simply as Research and knocked.

“Who is it?” A rather British - the most British the Them and ever heard and they lived in Britain - voice came through the door. “If you’re here for any books, I’m rather afraid to inform you that we’re fresh out. So sorry.”

“Angel, who is even going to buy books here? We know everyone on this base.” A random voice followed the first one.

“It’s the Marshall,” The Marshall said gleefully. “Are you two decent?” The door exploded outward, Adam pulled Brian to the side before he managed to get hit, and in the doorway stood the poshest librarian in a lab coat known to ever walk the earth.

Aziraphale had never been a librarian - he would miss the books too much - but he _was_ in a lab coat and miracled all of his clothing from the Book Lovers Hottest Trends magazine that Crowley would give him each Christmas, so it could be excused that people tended to think of Aziraphale as a librarian.

“Decent! Of course we’re decent you magnanimous bastard!” Aziraphale looked positively peeved and everyone unknowingly took a large step backwards. “How dare you insinuate…. oh, hello Adam, how are you doing?”

“Hello, Mr. Aziraphale,” Adam waved, as did the rest of the Them. Lower Tadfield had a rather large influx of guests driving in and out of the city limits, including a demon and angel in a 1926 Bentley who came to visit. Aziraphale came primarily to see Anathema Device, a psychic from her mother’s side of the family, who loved books as much as he did. Crowley just seemed to follow Aziraphale around; it was rather adorable although Adam had never told him that to his face. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you.” Aziraphale said and then turned to yell at the Marshall some more. The Them took the opportunity to step into the research portion of the base.

There was a slain kaiju on a table in the middle of the floor, but what really got the Them’s attention was the large quantity of beautiful, flourishing plants that took up most of the floor.

“Is it safe for the plants to be near a Kaiju corpse?” Brian wondered aloud.

“If it’s not, the plants know better than to complain.” From behind a table near the back of the research lab, another person wearing a lab coat stood. “Oh, it’s you lot. Finally convinced your old man that you could fight the giant monsters?”

“Hello, Mr. Crowley,” they all chimed.

“I hope you’re talking about Adam’s real dad and not that supernaturally megalomaniac poser,” Pepper added, her eyes narrowing.

Crowley snickered. “Course I’m talking about your London dad. Your Hell dad wouldn’t care.” Crowley had also met Adam’s London father, Mr. Young, and was rather fond of the man for the pure reason that he had very good taste in drinks.

“Is the hell dad here since you and Mr. Aziraphale are here?” Wensleydale asked.

“Kid, the whole of Heaven and Hell are in this facility.” Crowley scoffed, looking a tad nervous. “I’ve mostly been in this room- not hiding, mind, you! - with the angel.”

“If both angels and demons are fighting against the Kaiju, then why haven’t they been destroyed yet?” Pepper scrunched up her nose in distaste. “I thought you lot were supposed to be powerful; annihilating cities with a pinky finger and such.”

“That’s because,” Aziraphale said from behind them, walking into the room, “Michael and Lucifer would enjoy eradicating the enemy in giant robots rather than make everyone’s life easier and simply be done with the matter.”

“Fighting in robots is rather wicked,” Adam nodded sagely. The rest of the Them also nodded. Fighting in robots _was_ brilliant. Everyone knew that.[5]

 

 

[1] In order to match Them in all ways, Lucifer had also given himself numerous titles which the author has refused to write in because of time constraints.

[2] Many times, Wensleydale questioned his sanity for sticking around with Adam and Friends and then promptly remembered he had no sanity left, just logical thinking.

[3] As everyone who has a map knows, Hong Kong isn’t a part of mainland China and therefore has no direct access to all the touristy sites Adam wanted to see.

[4] To no one’s surprise, the mess hall was very messy.

[5] Everyone except for Aziraphale, who could be heard muttering “damn Telly” under his breath for the rest of the day. Crowley wisely stayed busy with his plants, pretending he had suddenly ruptured an eardrum and couldn’t hear a single thing.


	3. Once Again Through the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End of The Apocalypse is near and it's not the supernaturally powerful angels or demons that solve any problems.

 

Three weeks later, fighting in robots was still brilliant, but now rather tiring. It hadn’t occurred to Adam and his group of friends back during the Almost Apocalypse, nor during the visits from Crowley and Aziraphale throughout the years, but the Them had more than fully realized how _useless_ demons and angels were at solving any actual problems. [1] The Them were the only group of functional pilots who’d had a success rate against the Kaiju in their Jaeger, considering the only other active pilots on base were Michael and Lucifer and their all-time record of working together while in the drift was twelve whole seconds. The Marshall had been so proud that day, much to the confusion of the Them.

“It’s twelve bloody seconds!” Pepper complained loudly. “It’s not hard to get along with someone you loathe for twelve seconds. I do it all the time with my sister!”

“Eh, that’s how they’ve always been.” Crowley shrugged, throwing pens at the newest Kaiju corpse the Them has brought in. That’s how Crowley conducted his research on the Kaiju, much to Wensleydale’s despair.

The day after they had arrived at the Shatterdome, the Them had been introduced to their Jaeger; a giant, nearly hundred meter metal giant, with a large enough head to hold four pilots. A vaguely familiar red-headed technician had shown them the weapons installed on the Jaeger with a smile full of gleefully pointed teeth. Pepper soon mirrored the technician’s excitement when she heard that the Jaeger came specially equipped with an electric saber, flamethrower, and laser rifle.

“Did anyone else feel like they’ve seen that lady before?” After the weapons programming was all done, Brian had squinted after the skipping technician.

“Yes and no.” Adam had said casually, “I expect her associates are around though, so it’s okay.”

No one had been sure how that was okay, but then again, it was the end of the world so maybe it _was_ okay.

Three weeks into being in Hong Kong, and the Them had managed to take down six Kaiju, all of which had ended up either on Crowley’s or Aziraphale’s lab table. According to the angel, the long-time supernatural agents on earth had been given the task of examining the Kaiju for any weaknesses and attempting to contact the original Precursor species to inform them of their ineffable demise.

“It’s a rather silly task,” Aziraphale sniffed as he poked the interior organs with a sixteen foot spear to keep as far away from the bodily fluids as possible. Even under his lab coat, the angel still wore his favorite camel skin coat, and he would hate for it to get dirty. “No one really cares about finding a weakness, they just want us to be busy so we don’t get in their way of absolute destruction.”

“But they are absolutely terrible at fighting these guys,” Brian pointed. “We’ve been doing all the heavy lifting around here.”

“All the denizens of Hell and Heaven are absolutely terrible at everything except lurking around and trying to look important.” Crowley chimed in from the back of the lab where he was cutting up pieces of Kaiju for a new fertilizer for his plants.

“Does that include you and Mr. Aziraphale?” Wensleydale asked.

“Nope. I know I’m at the bottom of the food chain in Hell. Definitely not important at all.”

“Well, I think you two would be more useful in a Jaeger than the dramatic duo,” Brian grumbled, “You would be more drift compatible at any rate.”

“Of course, of course.” Aziraphale waved a hand, “However, with our track record, neither of us are allowed near the Jaegers. Not that I would _want_ to, at any rate. Did you know that -“

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Aziraphale, we really have to dash. I think I hear my dad.” Adam said hurriedly, already half running out of the room before Aziraphale could get rolling on one of his rants.[2] The rest of the Them were right on Adam’s heels, shouting their own farewells.

Aziraphale pouted as his audience disappeared out the door, and Crowley winced as Aziraphale opened his mouth to start another rant. Luckily, throughout the long millennia of being acquaintances, Crowley had found the best way of derailing Aziraphale from his rants. A good old fashioned distraction.

“Hey, angel. Want to drift with a dead kaiju?”

 

[1] But give them problems that had never existed and suddenly their efficiency rate tripled.

[2] His rants were infamous as being Aziraphale’s most effective attack. Back before the Arrangement was in place, Crowley would deliberately discorporate himself to escape. Several angels, who do not wish to be named, will testify that they have thrown themselves off of the clouds that make up Heaven whenever Aziraphale visited.

 

* * *

 

The thing about drifting is that it’s an extremely personal and invasive engineering breakthrough, designed to have multiple people think in the same ways and achieve full tandem. For instance, when two - or four people in the case of the Them - enter the Drift, they are able to perform feats of acrobatic miracles in a giant robot because everyone has the same thought and knows what to do. Everyone is fully aware of their limits, of their strengths, and of their lives. It's a merging of multiple people into one being, which is why Michael and Lucifer have such a difficult time maintaining an active connection in the drift: Lucifer can’t stand thinking the same as Michael; it’s practically an insult.[3]

Crowley and Aziraphale had drifted once before for fun when the technology had just been released and the humans were the ones still piloting the Jaegers before sixty percent of the population got wiped out. For them, drifting was no different than living; they had known each other for far too long and shared too many drunken meals to be shy around the other.

Adding a Kaiju, even a dead one, to the mix, disrupted that easy merger like a taking a hallucinogenic drug at a funeral filled with silent mourners.

“That,” Crowley nearly fell over as he tossed the helmet that connected all three of them to the ground, “was a terrible idea.”

“I think it might have been your worst idea to date.” Aziraphale’s voice boomed through the ringing in Crowley’s ears and he winced in pain. “Dear, your nose is bleeding a bit. You might want to wipe your face before it stains something.”

“Ugh, I don’t think I can move my arms anymore.”

“Well, we do need to move to tell The Marshall at least that the Precursors are sending the Kaiju through a tunnel in the ocean.” Aziraphale was marginally better off than his counterpart; by power of logic, they both figured the Kaiju were biologically similar to reptiles.[4] Crowley had once been a snake, also a known reptile. So it had made sense at the time that Crowley wear the primary helmet connecting directly to the Kaiju corpse and Aziraphale would wear a secondary helmet and piggyback off of the connection.

Turns out, those reptilian qualities also included brain capacity levels which were not so surprisingly, lower than the brain sizes of angels and demons. Modern day angels and demons, some creatures[5] would add with a sniff of disdain. Being drifted with a Kaiju meant that Crowley got a first-hand experience - and Aziraphale a second-hand experience - of the utter emptiness of any thoughts while trying to shriek opinions into a massive crowd of other Kaiju. If someone were to be reading this account, they may equate it to some politicians currently at the forefront of the United States government.[6] Secretly, Crowley felt a quick jab of sympathy toward Michael; this was probably what his head was like _all the time_.

“I’m surprised they don’t already know about this,” Crowley grumbled. “Can’t we just call everyone over the intercom, instead of running around to find them?”

“Why not?” Aziraphale shrugged as he reached for the phone. “Now what button do I press?”

“The button that says ‘intercom’ right next to it. I labeled the phone for a reason.”

“HEY EVERYONE, GABRIEL FUCKED UP WITH HIS STUPID METEOR TRICK.” Aziraphale bellowed into the phone. Crowley would swear upon his dying breath that Aziraphale had never looked more pleased with himself in all six thousand years than he did at that moment.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I can’t believe you blamed Gabriel on the intercom so everyone could hear.” Crowley told Aziraphale, hours later, after running from a furious archangel, while explaining the whole tunnel that connects the worlds that had been damaged but not destroyed all those millennia ago when Gabriel had been charged with terminating the Precursors. He followed that whole debacle with a quick snake nap to shake off the Kaiju drift and felt as good as new.

“Well, it _was_ his fault,” Aziraphale sniffed, “If he had just done his job _properly_ and destroyed the one thing he needed to instead of everything around it, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Facing another apocalypse?” Crowley guessed.

“No, being forced to pilot a giant robot.”

Indeed, after Aziraphale’s continued dislike of Gabriel made itself apparent and they were forced to explain how they had obtained the information by drifting with one of the many Kaiju bodies in their “lab”, a plan was made up quickly on the spot among all the residents of the Shatterdome. The Them would pilot their Jaeger, The Robot, to the spot where the tunnel opened in the Pacific Ocean, and blow it up. The red-headed weapons technician pulled high grade explosives from her pockets and everyone took a careful step back, except Pepper, who edged closer.

In order to get the Robot close enough without wasting all its energy on fighting the Kaiju that would most definitely come to attack, a distraction was needed. And what better distraction than a drift compatible angel and demon pair that could potentially last longer than fifteen seconds while in a Jaeger.

“But I wanted to punch the Kaiju!” Michael had whined.

“No, Michael, you already tried and it took me years to heal you properly,” Raphael had scolded. “I’m sure these two will be just fine, and you can punch the leftover monsters.”

“But I don’t want to pilot a giant robot,” Aziraphale had scowled and Lucifer had laughed.

“You should have thought of that before pissing off the Messenger,” the Morningstar said from across the room. Next to him, his second in command, Beezlebub, twittered, his wings shaking in obvious amusement. Crowley bet that Beezlebub didn’t even know what was so funny, he just saw his Lord of Darkness laughing and joined in.[7]

The animosity Aziraphale held for Gabriel was well-known to Heaven (and to Crowley) and was mostly one-sided until Gabriel decided to take Aziraphale’s jabs personally. The only good thing about this revenge tactic, is that Crowley finally got a chance to pilot a Jaeger; he’d been wanting to since the humans had first come out with the giant robots. It looked _cool_. But Aziraphale’s strong dislike – for angels never hated – of the ridiculous giant robots had nipped that dream in the bud. Going into the drift to pilot a robot without Aziraphale would have been weird, and add on the whole untrustworthiness from Heaven and Hell, and Crowley thought he would always remain watching everyone else pilot the Jaegers from the sidelines.

Not any longer; in the morning, Aziraphale and Crowley would be joining the other Jaegers for a last ditch effort to wipe out the Kaiju and ruin the Precursors’ plans of domination.

“Hey fellows, I know this is rather last minute, but does anyone _know_ how the precursors were able to biologically engineer the Kaiju?”

“Who cares, dude?” Michael rolled his eyes from his spot in the center of the room. No one really did care, not even poor Wensleydale, who had asked the question. “Let’s just go explode some Kaiju.”[8]

 

 

 

[3] Lucifer isn’t the only one to think this; Gabriel and Raphael very much agree with the disgust. Gabriel because he thinks he’s smarter than everyone else and Raphael because he’s patched up too many of Michael’s concussions throughout the years.

[4] The research methods to discover the false claim that the Kaiju were similar to reptiles involved a lot of poking of the hard, scaly-like armor and assumptions. A foolproof scientific method.

[5] Crowley

[6] The author isn’t apologizing for this statement.

[7] Crowley would be pleased to know that he would have won that bet had he placed it anywhere.

[8] No one had the heart to break it to poor Michael that his track record was worse than Gabriel’s. He would throw a tantrum and mope about it for decades.

 

* * *

 

The next morning was chaotic. While Crowley and Aziraphale were drift compatible, neither of them had ever been inside of a Jaeger before, or knew how to pilot it. Aziraphale barely knew how to drive a car, having had relied on Crowley the past century for most of his transportation. Pepper and Wensleydale had stayed up late adding more and more weapons and functions to their Jaeger; arguing with the scarlet haired technician - who for convenience’s sake, we shall simply call War for the rest of this story - who was upset that they hadn’t asked for her opinions of what proper weapons to add. Two other vaguely familiar technicians, one dressed in all black and hauntingly thin and the other covered in oil stains while wearing all white, came from a side hallway to pull War away.

By the time everyone was ready and suited up in their Jaegers or behind their computers on the base, it was late afternoon and everyone was cranky. The Marshall had stopped talking to anyone to just drink out of a giant wine bottle they pulled from a pocket.

The sun was high in the sky when three Jaegers waddled into the Pacific Ocean, all heading towards the giant hole on the ocean floor that had been overlooked by humans, angels, and demons alike for so many years.

The Them in their Jaeger, The Robot[9], were marching in the water in the center of the formation, slightly ahead of the other two. Michael and Lucifer had managed to walk down the shoreline and waist deep in the water before their Jaeger stalled, and everyone cheered at the new broken record of ‘longest time getting along’ at a whole forty-two seconds.

“Miracles do still happen,” everyone heard Raphael weep happily into the microphone.

The Tartan Bentley[10] was lagging behind The Robot, stumbling over its own feet.

“Angel, please put the book down, I really can’t move this thing with you thinking about cooking recipes printed in a 16th century Bible.”

_“You’re_ the driver,” Aziraphale turned the page of his unique misprinted Bible from the early days of the printing press. “This is how we always drive.”

“In a car! This is not a car!” Being in a car would have been more enjoyable. Crowley was beginning to realize just how silly it was walking around in a giant metal robot attached with weapons; the machine didn’t even have a stereo installed.

“I hate to interrupt,” Adam said mildly through the communication network, “but we have incoming Kaiju straight ahead.”

“They’re definitely coming in through the breach.” Pepper pointed out the obvious as The Robot readied its flamethrower and electric saber in each of its hands.

“We can distract them.” Aziraphale snapped his book shut and put it carefully in his jacket pocket. “You lot keep going on ahead; I’d like to get this over with quickly and get back to whatever’s left of my bookshop.”

Crowley didn’t have to ask what Aziraphale had in mind; he knew what Aziraphale’s thought process was and raised his left hand.

The Them didn’t turn around to see how exactly Aziraphale and Crowley had managed to get all of the Kaiju positively stunned but Michael and Lucifer had a prime seat watching a hundred and thirteen meter tall robot skip around with its hands flapping like a bird. They watched, mesmerized by horror and awe as the Tartan Bentley successfully captivated its intended audience with its rendition of the Gavotte Mignon[11]. The Kaiju, while not having as evolved intelligence as their creators, could ignore their rage and murderous intent to appreciate a good show whenever one popped up.

Adam, Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale felt rather cheated as they sprinted as best they could in the water towards the breach.

“You know, I thought this would have been much more dramatic,” Brian grumbled as he prepared his side of the Jaeger to drop the modified explosives Pepper and Wensleydale had designed overnight. “You know, more near death experiences, the dramatic tension of our inevitable failure before winning with impossible odds.”

“I’m glad it’s almost done. I’m ready to go home.” Adam narrowed his eyes as The Robot stopped right at the coordinates for the breach. As one, the Them took a deep breath and dove down below the surface, lamps installed in the Jaeger providing them limited light to see underwater. The ocean was empty near the hole that connected Earth with the Precursor’s Anteverse; any schools of fish that used to swim through had all perished by the Kaiju years before.

“This is Metatron,” A deep voice announced through the communications network. “Adam Antichrist and fellow humans, do you copy?”

“We have names,” Pepper grumbled, “are they really that difficult to remember?”

The Metatron continued as if Pepper had not said anything.

“The machines are picking up several large Kaiju approaching from the tunnel.”

“How large is large?” Adam’s question came too late; he didn’t need a scanner to tell him that the head popping through the tunnel was massive.

“We should have had a ranking system in place,” Brian seemed pale underneath his helmet, “because that thing, that thing is on top.”

“Well come on! Just start whacking its head until it goes down!” With practiced motions, Pepper pulled up and down on the levers in front of her and The Robots’ whip - now with added spikes that could scourge flesh without even trying - snapped down in The Robot’s right hand.

Adam thought as he matched the others’ movements to keep striking their enemy, preventing it from leaving the tunnel entirely. Pepper and Wensleydale had made explosive devices that were the size of The Robot’s hand. They somehow needed to get a device into the tunnel without the massive Kaiju bating it aside. The Kaiju weren’t affected by Adam’s abilities as the Antichrist; but that didn’t mean he couldn’t manipulate other things to what he wanted.

He didn’t need to explain to the Them what he wanted to do; the drift said it all for him and he saw the approval of his plan with their sudden smiles.

Adam concentrated on the explosive devices that rested in their Jaeger’s left hand, fingers curled protectively around it. There was water around them but Adam didn’t want water, he wanted something else to cover the explosives. The water hardened and grew dark, and Adam smiled as the universe once again bended his whim.

If Jesus could transmute water into wine, Adam, who was still forbidden to drink by his real dad, could transmute water into chocolate. Because everyone knew that chocolate was irresistible.

The Robot tossed the chocolate covered explosive into the tunnel and watched as the Kaiju grabbed it to hold it gently in its massive claws, just looking at the chocolate like it was the most beautiful thing it had ever seen. The Kaiju floated in the mouth of the tunnel, too distracted to continue attacking its prey, but too intelligent to turn its back on the giant robot that kept hitting it.

“Well, at least it’s still in the tunnel.” Brain said optimistically. “We just gotta find a way to push the Kaiju down further. Any ideas?”

“I had the chocolate idea. Someone else should try and come up with something.”

“We could try stepping on it to push it down with our Jaeger,” Wensleydale offered, “no wait, but then we wouldn’t be able to get out of the blast zone in time. It’s set off to explode in three minutes and thirty three seconds once it disconnected from the Jaeger.”

Silence rang throughout the head of The Robot.

“Well boys,” Pepper looked at the rest of the Them, “who’s ready to go sacrifice themselves for the greater good of humanity?”[12]

“No one is going to die.” Adam said firmly. “I won’t let that happen.”

The Earth was his to control after all; that was his reason for being born, even if Adam hadn’t agreed with the idea. But it was a useful mindset to have for short term crises, of which Adam had only faced twice before.[13] With a grunt, Adam closed his eyes and forced himself to focus.

“Um, Adam,” Wensleydale peered out of the glass pane that served as The Robot’s eyes, “are you using your devil-granted powers to call a _kraken_ here?”

“What? No, I’m trying to increase the pressure of the water and gravity to push the Kaiju down.”

“Well, Wen is right, there’s a giant kraken heading this way.” Brian said just as the kraken zoomed past their Jaeger, leaving a stream of bubbles in its wake, and tackled the Kaiju still floating in the entrance of the tunnel.

Readers, there is a fun fact about kraken that you most definitely have never covered in your biological science lectures: kraken absolutely adore chocolate, especially dark cocoa chocolate from Ghirardelli’s Square in what is now the destroyed town of San Francisco. They can smell any sort of chocolate from 132 kilometers away (82 miles for those American readers and the writer) and will display their more aggressive tactics to obtain the chocolate from whatever creature is holding it.

In this case, it was a giant biologically engineered giant amphibian, designed to eradicate life on planet Earth that was holding the piece of chocolate the kraken craved.

The Them watched as the kraken and the Kaiju swam down the tunnel connecting the two worlds, chasing a large chocolate-coated explosive that had slipped from the Kaiju’s fingers.

“I guess we should get out of here?” Through the drift, the four members of the Them, were blinking in shock, unable to fully process that the kraken, terror of the seas and small fish and enemy of sushi chefs everywhere, had saved the entire world.

“Sounds like a good idea, Pepper, yeah.”

They were only halfway towards the surface when the aftershocks of the explosion hit them and sent them spinning in The Robot. Through the communication devices, they could hear cheering from the people still hiding out at the Shatterdome in Hong Kong so they assumed they must have won.

“Thank you, Mr. Kraken,” Adam said solemnly, holding his hand high, Wensleydale, Brian, and Pepper echoing him, “Your sacrifice and determination will never be forgotten.”

When they finally breached the surface of the water, they found Crowley and Aziraphale floating above a destroyed Jaeger that had once been the Tartan Bentley and Lucifer and Michael’s Jaeger - they hadn’t ever decided on a name so it remained nameless - punching the remaining Kaiju into a bloody pulp.

“Oh good, you four made it out.” Crowley waved. “I told you they would be fine, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, well, you know how I feel about the effectiveness of robots.”

“Don’t mind him.” Crowley landed on the shoulder of The Robot, Aziraphale landing shortly after. “He’s just a bit upset that Michael and Lucifer both didn’t like his gavotte dance moves and can agree to mutual destruction if it means never watching them again.”

The Robot’s head opened up and the Them clambered out onto the body of the Jaeger to feel the fresh breeze.

“Well, I think it’s time to go back to Lower Tadfield, then,” Adam shrugged.

“Job well done and all that, yeah?” Wensleydale pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Do you think The Marshall will let me keep some of the weapons?” Pepper asked. “I want some souvenirs from this adventure.”

Brian didn’t say anything, just held out his fist for a group fist bump.

Now, at least for the moment, all was good.

 

 

Still only for some people, of course. The Kaiju and Precursors were clearly not of the same opinion, not that they had opinions any longer. The Marshall didn’t really care, and that is what truly mattered[14].

 

 

 

[9] Named courtesy of Adam’s superb naming skills.

[10] A name courtesy of Brian who had always believed Crowley and Aziraphale belonged on a ship together.

[11] It is important to note that Aziraphale doesn’t really remember all of the dance steps for the Gavotte, but instead substituted those steps for flapping and hopping like a chicken. There wasn’t that much of a difference and no one but he ever noticed.

[12] Pepper’s answer was a resounding no; she hadn’t yet destroyed patriarchy on a global scale and had vowed not to rest until it had all been dismantled. She would make for a very vengeful ghost years later.

[13] The first was of course the first Apocalypse seven years ago and second was when Adam had been in secondary school and was rejected by his crush, Thomas Burgandy. Brian had been the one to knock some sense into Adam and prevent the schoolyard from being sucked into a black hole.

[14] As it was apparent to all, The Marshall had a very selective attention span and made most of Their important decisions on a whim. They were very much a child at heart; a child who could drink, vote, and legally rent a car in most countries.


End file.
